Tracer's Criminal Past That Blizzard Won't Tell You About
by Kream45
Summary: Tracer's done so much weird, illegal stuff, that she's gonna be actually executed. Unless she goes on a rehab...
1. Problems with Tracer

Tracer entered Morrison's office.

„Hello, boss!" she smiled and waved her hand.

"Hi." Jack replied, "We need to talk. Now."

Tracer sat on a chair next to his desk.

"I think you know why I called you here." Jack said.

"No, I actually don't Mr Morrison." Tracer replied.

"Well, I find it intriguing that you don't, since what you've done in the past couple of months should be enough of a reason."

Tracer shrugged, "Do you mean that… I have been causing problems to our organization?"

"Yes. Yes, indeed." Jack said and pulled out a very long piece of paper.

"What's that?" Tracer asked.

"This is the list of all your failed missions and crimes you've been involved with in the past few months." Jack stated, "Let me see… oh, just the first few things on this list would normally be enough to not only fire you, but also sentence you to death by horse tearing."

"What's horse tearing?"

"You don't want to know."

"Well, what are the things that I've been accused of?"

"For example: Stealing money from kids instead of rescuing them from an omnic attack, shouting 'Death to all nignogs' in the middle of an African-american district in Los Angeles, performing so-called 'medical experiments' on kids, involving strapons and whipped cream, setting an entire orphanage on fire, which caused several kids to lose not just faith in humanity, recording yourself on YouTube while taking a shit on the American flag and waving the flag of United Kingdom, shouting out racist and xenophobic statements, and being a high-rank member of the Pedophile World Organization, that only recruits notorious pedophiles and social outcast confirmed to have a child-oppressing history."

"…"

"And that's just about one-thirtieth of what's stated in here."

Tracer looked at him, not knowing what to say.

"Well?"

"Umm, I… guess I just had a bad day?"

"So you had a bad day for one hundred and twenty days straight?"

"Yeah, that's… exactly the case here."

Jack bent over on his chair and calmed his voice, "Tracer, you have no idea how much I had to lie to the government, for them to look the other way."

"You didn't have to lie, though."

"So you want to be sentenced to death?"

Tracer opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as she realized she didn't have any arguments.

"Tracer, I don't think this needs another clarification, but… are you into juveniles?"

"Umm…"

"What about your approach towards African-American people?"

"Well I…"

"Tracer, this has to stop. In fact, the only reason why you're not in jail yet, waiting for execution, is because the government agreed for your treatment."

"What?"

"You'll be taken to an isolated rehab facility for notorious criminals, in Alaska." Jack said, and when Tracer wanted to speak, he interrupted her, "That's not questionable."

"Hmpf…"

"Not only that, you will also be under special control, and you've got to do everything to show them that you're not that bad of a person after all."

"How am I gonna do that?"

"Easy: just try to perform as well as you can during the tests you will undergo. And by 'well' I mean, answer the questions they ask you as though a normal, sane person would answer."

"Alright, alright." Tracer sighed.

"When you're done there after a week, I will task you with a simple mission. You will be watched, but I'm sure that after that week of rehab you will be able to distinguish wrong from right."

"I… do hope so, too." Tracer replied, but there was no confidence in her voice.

Jack got up and kneeled by Tracer.

"Did… something happened those four months ago?"

"… yes."

"… do you wanna talk about it?"

Tracer sobbed and shook her head.

"… it's alright." Jack got up but Tracer grabbed his hand.

"It's… those fucking nignogs… they piss me off so much!" Tracer said with tears in her eyes.

"… alright?"

"And.. and.. aand those fucking kids, running around on the streets, their moms let them piss by a tree in a park, that's so fucking dumb, but… also kind of hot…"

"Alright?" Jack said.

"And I really like smearing whipped cream all over my asshole and my strapon, so…"

"ALRIGHT! I get it! You're weird, I get it. But this doesn't explain why you have become like that four months ago. You haven't been like this before!"

"… maybe."

"Did you hit yourself in the head somewhere?" Jack asked and sat on his chair again, "You're gonna go on a rehab, so maybe you want to go visit doctor Ziegler before when you're at it?"

"Nah, nah, it's fine, I just.. drowned a bit too deep into the depths of the endless pit of evil and absolute weirdness, known as the Internet."

"What do you mean?"

"My friend introduced me to a cool website, where people post memes and talk about stuff… mostly about memes."

"And?"

"And as it turned out, there was a special section on this website, called /n/, for Nignogs."

"Oh."

"And I thought it was a section for African-American people to socialize with each other, and just the creators of the website were very racist and named the section this way."

"I don't think that black people would even bother to 'socialize' on such a website, where a section for them is named after a racist insult."

"Yes, and that's when it hit me: the section was intended for memes with black people and talking shit about black people."

"I somehow can't believe that you suddenly started to hate black people because you saw a few memes."

"No, you don't understand… they told me that nig... I mean, blacks… I mean, black people… I mean, African-Ame…"

"Just get to the point!"

"Right! So, they said, that black people are the absolute worst."

"… aaaand?"

"And that they did 9/11."

"… Aaaaaaand?"

"And that they should be ashamed that they are black! Why are they black? Can't they be white?"

"Actually, no. They can't. That's the point, you don't choose who you born as."

"But.. but… wouldn't it be better for the world if every black person would go and whitened themselves? Like Michael Jackson did, and he finally became a hot, white male?"

"Tracer, you have a problem."

Tracer realized that what she said was idiotic, and hid her face with her hands."

"And what about kids?"

"Umm, I've always been into kids, but only four months ago I finally got the courage to do something about it."

"Alright, I think that's it for our meeting today." Jack said and got up, "You're leaving today."

"I'll go and prepare my plane…"

"No no no, I'll take care of that. And you're definitely not going alone."

"Huh?"

"Go and pack your things. Your transport will be waiting for you in the hangar."

"Who's gonna go with me?"

"You'll see. Go pack yourself. And don't think of anything stupid. There are cameras everywhere around, and I can't reliably say whether or not you're being watched by some government agents right now."

Tracer left and went to her room. She packed everything up, including her dildo collection, and a few cans of whipped cream. She just couldn't live without those.

When she finished, she left her room and went to the hangar. Dva was waiting for her there.

"Hi Tracer!" Dva said, "I'm gonna take you to that facility in Alaska!"

"Oh, hi Dva!" Tracer smiled, "It's a bit weird that they put you in charge."

"Why so?"

"Well, I thought they would assign someone… older?"

"Like who, Winston?" Dva chuckled, "Come on, Tracer! I'm 19!"

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about…"

"Anyway, this is our ship." Dva pointed at a spaceship nearby.

"But… that's a spaceship." Tracer said.

"Yeah, so what?"

"We're going to Alaska, not space…"

"Well, I figured it would be fun to visit my alien friend that lives on Mars first, and then take you to Alaska."

"Haha?"

"Actually, all of our other vehicles are out of gas, so this is the only one we can use."

"You can just refuel those other ships."

"Fuel is expensive, you know."

"… alright, whatever, let's go."

"But first, drink this." Dva gave Tracer a can of Mountain Dew.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Drink it or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else I'll gently pour it into your ass."

"But what if I refuse?"

"Then I will have to exterminate you."

"… fine, here." Tracer drank the Dew in one sip, "Happy?"

"Yeah, and now eat this." Dva gave Tracer a single Dorrito.

"Fine?" Tracer ate the dorrito.

"And now blaze this and we're good to go." Dva gave tracer a joint.

"Fine... Wait, what?"

"Blaze it or I'll tell everyone what you fap to."

"How would you know?"

"I saw you once through a keyhole, fapping."

"And what did you saw?"

"I think there were some tentacles, going into that underage girl's…"

"ALRIGHT!" Tracer blazed the joint and then ate it, "Happy?!"

"Yup! Let's go!"

Tracer and Dva entered the spaceship, but suddenly, Tracer started feeling dizzy."

"Something wrong?" Dva asked.

"It's that weed… I don't really feel…" and then she passed out.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Alaska

Tracer woke up in the spaceship some time later.

"Ughh… how long was I unconscious?" she asked.

"Oh, just a few days." Dva replied.

"Oh, that's a relief… what?!"

"You heard me."

"And we're still not in Alaska?"

"Nope."

"How's that possible?"

"The joint you have blazed earlier was potent enough to put you to sleep for a few days." Dva explained, "That was just enough to take you to the Overwatch space station, where they did some experiments on you."

"Wait, what? So that's why we're using a spaceship? And what kind of experiments they did on me?"

"I only saw some big, synthetic robo-arm with a huge syringe going into your anus and filling it with some liquid, but then I had to go to cafeteria and eat something."

"Huh?"

"Don't ask me, I have no idea."

"And don't you think that I should know what kind of liquid they put into me?"

"Probably something to... umm, nevermind."

"Wait, do tell me! I need to know."

"Umm… oh, look, we're here!"

Dva pointed through the window. They were getting close to the rehab facility.

"Alright, cool, we're here, wow. But what did they put into my ass?"

"Umm, bye!" Dva said and pressed a button. Tracer was launched through the spaceship's roof faster than you would say "I love hairy asses".

She landed in a pile of snow, inside the secret Complex.

"Ah, isn't that Miss Tracer?" Some black guy said, "We've been waiting for you."

Tracer got up and looked at him.

"Umm, who are you?"

"My name is Carl Johnson, I run this complex."

"… They let a black guy run this whole place."

Carl chuckled. "Yes indeed. Now let's talk about where you will sleep and about your tests…"

"Wait, before you say anything: can I talk to the white representative of this facility?"

"… 'scuse me?"

"Well, I want to talk to a white dude. Just any white dude, please. I don't want to be racist, just… can you… call someone who is white?"

"…"

Tracer then remembered the words of Jack Morisson. _"Don't send porn to me on Facebook or I'll block you!"_ Wait, not that, _"…answer the question they ask you as though a normal, sane person would answer."_

"Oh, that's a relief!" Tracer said, "I was told to act normal during the test, and this isn't one. So, Mr Nigger, can you show me please where will I sleep? I don't want any darkies living next to my room, and I assume that everyone gets their own room here, right? Also, I don't eat fish, they're disgusting. For desserts, I prefer strawberries with whipped cream over raspberries. Oh, speaking of whipped cream, you can send a few kids once a few hours to my room, where I'll penetrate them with my dildo collection, let me show you."

Tracer then unpacked her backpack, and when Carl wanted to say something, Tracer shoved her dildo collection at his face.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she said, smiling, "This one is small, but it's good to stuff one's ass with when doing oral, this one… is a standard size dildo, can fit in most people's asses, good for spreading one's rectal area to put a bigger one, like… like this one. This is actually a buttplug, and it's very wide. Some people have their anuses too tight, so forcing it in can cause their ass to rip, but it will go in anyway. Especially if you smear whipped cream all over their ass, and smear it into the dildo, too. Then, when you pull it out, you can see their gaping asshole, wide and welcoming for you to fist it. It's still exciting to see, when even the toughest people, with the toughest asses, get all squishy and elastic down there, when you use a few dildoes and a bit of whipped cream."

Carl was staring at Tracer all that time, and when she finished, he had no words.

"So, where's my room?" Tracer asked.

"… it's this way, follow me." Carl said. His eyes were wide open.

Then Tracer walked into the room Carl showed her.

"It seems nice and cozy, but where is all the furniture?" she asked, "And why are the walls and floor covered with squishy pillows?"

And then Carl closed the door.

"Hey! What the fuck?! Let me out you nigger!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that." Carl replied, calmly.

"I knew niggers couldn't be trusted!"

And then some other black guy approached Carl.

"Who's this? Another nignog?!" Tracer shouted, but they ignored her.

"Is it this girl?" the guy asked, "Shall I release the Nigger-Flood?"

"Yes, please." Carl replied, "I'm sorry Ms. Tracer, but we have no other choice."

"What?!"

And then the ceiling in the room disappeared, and dozens of black people jumped down. They grabbed Tracer and fiercely savaged her rectal area.

After a few hours, she passed out, and woke up the next day in some kind of laboratory.

"What… what are you doing?" she asked.

"We're gonna make sure that you're sane." A doctor said.

"How?"

"We're gonna drill into your skull, attach a robot to your brain, and suck out all the dank memes out of it, as well as all the racist and pedophilic thoughts."

"HUHH!? Don't drill into my skull!" Tracer cried.

"Well, there is also another way of doing it."

"What's that?"

"We're gonna attach a special device into your asshole, and fill it with a medicine, that will go to your brain and heal you."

"This doesn't sound that bad, comparing to skull-drilling."

"So you want to do it through your asshole?"

"Umm, okay?"

"Oh, alright." And then the doctor pulled out his dick and inserted it into Tracer's ass.

"Wait! You said something about a special device."

"THIS is the special device!" And then the doctor drilled through her anus, just to cum inside after 10 minutes.

"And what about the medicine?" Tracer asked, "I won't believe if you tell me that your semen can heal racist thoughts."

"Because it can't, I'll apply the medicine now." And then the doctor inserted a syringe into Tracer's ass and applied medicine.

"Hey, that's the special device?! So why did you fuck me before?"

"Couldn't waste such an opportunity."

"…"

"Alright, there we go." The doctor pulled the syringe out, "In a few seconds, the medicine will heal you."

"That's good, right?"

"Well, there is a 1% chance that you will die in the process, and your body will transform into a huge kraken, able to transform living beings into fish using magic, but I guess it's too late right now."

"WHAT?!" Tracer screamed, but then she stopped suddenly.

"… did it work?" Doctor asked.

"Umm, I don't feel any hatred towards African-American people anymore, and I find pedophilia to be absolutely disgusting and terrible."

"That's great!" The doctor said, "Now you're ready."

"For what?"

And then the doctor pressed a button and the liquid that was poured into her ass on that space station came out of her ass and turned into a black guy.

"DaFUQ?" Tracer shouted.

"How do you feel about this black person?"

"Whatever?!"

"And now?" The doctor asked, when the black guy transformed into a kid.

"It's just a kid, I don't care!"

"Well, you've passed!" The doctor claimed.

"Was that really necessary?" Tracer asked, "You could've just bring a black guy and a kid, instead of this transforming liquid."

"Yeah but you know, that was the point, to add some mystery to the chapter, people would be like 'Hmm, I wonder what kind of liquid was poured into Tracer's ass on that spacestation?' and then they're gonna be like 'Oh, that's stupid.', and then they'll realize that this whole story is stupid, and that's why you should always look both ways before crossing a street."

"What?"

And then the doctor transformed into a bag of McDonald's french fries. Tracer grabbed them and ate them all. Then Carl Johnson entered the lab.

"Ah, Tracer, I see you have been cured of racism and pedophilia!" he said.

"Yes, so what now?" Tracer asked.

"We're gonna send you back to Overwatch HQ. Jack Morrison is waiting for you there."

"Oh. So, goodbye."

"Yeah, goodbye." Carl said and used his magic to teleport Tracer back into Jack's office.

 **To be continued...**


	3. Retardation level 9000

Tracer suddenly found herself in Jack's office.

"Oh, there you are Tracer!" Jack said, "I've heard that you've been cured."

"Yes, that's true." Tracer replied.

"Well, now I have to give you an easy mission, and depending on your results, you will be able to avoid death sentence."

"Wow, what's that mission?"

And then Jack pulled off his pants.

"Suck." He said.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then I will have to **exterminate** you."

Then Tracer grabbed her flamethrower which she had in her pocket and started spraying flames at Jack, but he countered it with his water magic. Tracer used Kage Bunshin no Jutsu, but jack used his minigun in response and destroyed all of Tracer's clones.

Tracer had enough and summoned a big meteor. Jack tried to stop it by pushing it away with his fart, but it didn't work (surprisingly) and he was kill.

Tracer had to run to Africa, where nobody would find her. She built a small house using dirt, mud and dry camel shit.

Then some black boy approached her and said some shit like: "Excuse me, but this pile of camel shit was mine."

Tracer looked at the big pile of camel shit, from which she stole some materials for her house.

"Well I don't care, go away." She replied, "If you want, I can give you an apple in exchange."

"WOAH WOAH WOAH!" the kid shouted, "Are you saying that u got food in there?"

"Yes, in fact, I brought a lot of supplies, should be enough for the next two years, maybe thr…" and then she stopped, because an entire army of African people rampaged into her house, stole all of her stuff and brutally savaged all of her holes with their BBC's. Tracer woke up the next day.

"Well, what am I gonna do now?" she said to herself.

But then she came up with a gr8 idea. She travelled to India, bought a smartphone for 1 dollar, opened up PornHub on her new phone and searched for "Modifuckrs", and she masturbated to it everyday for the rest of her life.

 **Umm, The End?**


End file.
